‘Her family treated her very harshly and she ran away from home. She found work on the land, but after she lost the baby she was very ill. Then she met my father. He—’ Her voice broke now in the telling. ‘He was a wonderful man, who loved her dearly. She was happy with him, I think, through the years.’ She stopped and there was an unspoken ‘but’ lying between them.
Brinsley cleared his throat and tried to speak, though she could see that he was deeply affected. ‘Do you think,’ he asked again, ‘she would see me?’
‘I don’t know,’ was all Eveleen could answer him. ‘But I’ll ask her.’
Forty-Seven
‘No, no,’ Mary’s voice began to rise hysterically. ‘No, I don’t want to meet him. I – I can’t.’
Eveleen stood looking down at her. Despite the protest, she thought that there was a tiny part of her mother that still longed to see Brinsley Stokes again. She had been too quick to refuse, too vehement.
‘You said the other day that you wanted to see him.’
‘See him, yes, but not to meet him. Not to have to talk to him.’
‘He says, Mam, that he knew nothing about you being pregnant.’
Mary’s head snapped up. ‘He’s lying then.’ There was a pause and Eveleen saw the doubt creep into her mother’s eyes. ‘Isn’t he?’
Eveleen sat down. ‘I’m loath to admit it, but he – he seemed genuinely shocked when I told him. But you know me, Mam,’ she added, ‘I can’t trust a man further than I can throw him.’ She smiled, trying to lighten the tension with a little humour. ‘And most of ’em I can’t even pick up!’
A small smile flickered on Mary’s mouth but it did not reach her eyes, clouded with doubt.
Eveleen leant back in the chair and gave herself a few moments’ respite. The baby was quiet and she and Mary had had their supper. A few minutes’ respite before she began her evening work at the stocking-machine wouldn’t hurt. ‘Maybe I’m wrong, Mam. Maybe there are some men you can trust.’
‘You could trust your dad,’ Mary murmured, gazing into the glowing coals in the range.
Eveleen closed her eyes and thought about her father. She could see his face so clearly she almost believed that if she opened her eyes he would be standing there in the room with them. He was smiling that slow smile and his eyes were twinkling with mischief, just like they had when she was being particularly stubborn.
Then the vision of him faded and a picture of Stephen Dunsmore’s face thrust its way into her mind’s eye. Fair hair and blue eyes that had once been bright with passion and desire had turned, overnight it seemed, so cold. The mouth that had kissed her so tenderly and whispered such promises had, in the end, uttered only lies. When his father had handed him the reins of running the estate, the power had gone to the young man’s head and she was no longer ‘suitable’.
Then that final insult when he had ridden by on the day of their departure. He had deliberately ignored her. She could never forgive him for that.
She dragged her thoughts resolutely away from Stephen and stood up. ‘This isn’t getting the work done.’
But Mary was still daydreaming. ‘What does he look like now?’ The wistful note in her tone made Eveleen pause and force herself to say quite truthfully, ‘He’s – he’s a very handsome man.’
‘He always was.’ The longing that she had heard in Brinsley Stokes’s voice was echoed now in her mother’s.
‘I wonder,’ Mary murmured, ‘if he really didn’t know.’
Eveleen sighed inwardly and sat down again. This was not the time to be worrying about work. Tonight her mother’s need was greater than Eveleen earning a few more coppers, precious though those pennies might be.
‘I made myself believe he’d deserted me,’ Mary went on. ‘I clung to that thought.’
It was an odd thing to cling to, Eveleen thought. It would have seemed more natural to hold on to the belief that he had not known. Her mother’s next words explained it. ‘The anger kept me going, you see,’ she said simply. ‘If I could blame him more than I blamed myself, then I could survive.’ She shook her head. ‘Only my poor little baby didn’t.’
It was all tangled up with her harsh upbringing, Eveleen thought. Mary had needed someone to blame. She had not been able to forgive herself for bringing supposed shame on her family nor for the death of her child. Blaming Brinsley for what she had believed had been his desertion of her had given her a focus and had eased her own conscience.
Softly Eveleen asked, ‘Mam, what do you really want? Do you want to see him?’
‘I . . .’ Mary began. Slowly she nodded and whispered, ‘But I’m so afraid.’
For a few days they let the matter rest, but Brinsley Stokes was impatient. Once more Eveleen was called to Josh Carpenter’s office, much to her supervisor’s annoyance, to find Brinsley pacing up and down the tiny space in front of the desk.
‘Sit down, sit down,’ he said his tone testy with impatience. ‘Have you told her? What did she say? Will she see me?’
Eveleen remained standing and faced him squarely. ‘She’s like me,’ she said, her tone betraying nothing. ‘She doesn’t quite know what to believe.’
The man continued his pacing and ran his hand distractedly through his neatly combed hair, leaving it ruffled and sticking up in all directions.
Relenting, though only a little, Eveleen said, ‘Give her a little more time. Part of her wants to see you, yet she’s so afraid.’
‘Afraid? Of me?’ The idea appalled and saddened him. ‘But we loved each other. Oh I know we’ve married other people since and it reassures me to think that she knew happiness with your father.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I’ve been happy with my wife. She’s a lovely woman, a good woman, but . . .’ He hesitated and for a moment seemed uncertain. Eveleen caught a glimpse of the young man he had once been. A little shy perhaps and diffident. So obedient to his parents that he had never questioned, had never dreamed that they would deceive him. As she stared at him struggling to find the right words, Eveleen felt some of the ice around her heart beginning to melt.
Huskily he said, ‘You never quite forget your first love, Eveleen.’
‘Don’t you?’ the ice hardened once again. ‘Oh I think you can if you make yourself.’
She was close to him now, looking into his dark eyes that were so like his son’s and those eyes were looking straight into hers, plumbing the depths of her soul. He shook his head slightly. ‘It makes me very sad, my dear, to see such bitterness in one so young. Tell me, is it on your mother’s behalf or on your own that you bear such a grudge against men? Or is it against just one man in particular?’
With a bluntness that was bordering on rudeness, Eveleen said, ‘That’s none of your business.’ Belatedly she added a more polite, ‘sir.’
But Brinsley only smiled, though his smile was sad and did not reach his eyes. ‘If you ever want to talk about it,’ he said quietly, ‘I’m a good listener.’
‘Are you? Are you really?’ Eveleen burst out, all the worry and tension and bitterness flooding out of her. Before she could stop her rash tongue, she had said, ‘Then it’s a great pity you weren’t listening twenty years ago.’
She turned and ran from the office, tears of frustration and rage blinding her. Just who did he think he was, trying to worm his way back into her mother’s life after all this time?
Oh, he had a nerve. And so did his son. No doubt, she thought bitterly, he’ll be just the same.
Forty-Eight
A week later Josh was waiting for her near the workers’ entrance of the warehouse as Eveleen finished her shift.
He mopped his brow. ‘I couldn’t face the stairs, mi duck, but could I have a word?’
Eveleen smiled and said, ‘Of course, Mr Carpenter.’ She was aware of the whispering and tittering among the other women leaving work. With impetuous mischief, Eveleen’s eyes glinted wickedly as she said to Josh, ‘Come on, let’s give the old biddies something to talk about.’
; Boldly she stepped forward and linked her arm through his.
‘Eh?’ For one startled moment Josh’s face was a picture, but then, realizing what she was about, he chuckled and said, ‘You little minx.’
‘Well,’ she said as they walked side by side laughing softly. ‘It’ll give ’em summat to gossip about for a week. It’ll make their day.’
‘And mine,’ Josh said gallantly, clearly enjoying the fun.
When they reached his office, he gave her hand a little pat and ushered her into the chair on the visitor’s side of the desk. Then he took his own behind it, easing himself into it with a sigh of relief. ‘I just wanted to tell you that Mr Richard asked me to let you know that all the legalities seem to be proceeding satisfactorily about your adoption of the little one.’ He pulled a comical face and added. ‘I rather think those are the solicitor’s words, not Master Richard’s and certainly not mine.’ He laughed and his jowls wobbled.
Eveleen smiled, relieved at his words. But then she was surprised by a sudden shaft of disappointment that Richard had not sought her out to tell her the news himself. In fact, now she thought about it, neither Richard nor his father had visited the inspection room recently.
Not since the day she had run from this very office after her rash remark to Brinsley.
Haltingly, she asked now, ‘Did – did Mr Richard say anything else?’
Josh wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ He looked at her keenly. ‘Was there something else?’
‘No – no,’ Eveleen said hurriedly, unwilling to confide further. The secrets of more than twenty years ago were not hers to divulge. She stood up. ‘I’d better get home. Thank you for telling me.’
‘Eveleen . . .’ Now it was Josh who seemed a little uncertain. ‘I was wondering – I mean – would you mind if I came to see the little one?’
Eveleen stared at him for a moment, but seeing genuine concern on his face, she nodded. There was something more. Deep in those kind eyes there was a haunting sadness. ‘Of course you can.’
The Sunday of Bridie’s christening dawned bright and clear.
‘It’s going to be a lovely day,’ Win said as she came into the house almost before it was light. ‘Fred’s organized his mate to bring his pony and trap for us at eight o’clock. What time’s the service?’
‘After the usual service in the chapel this afternoon.’
Win tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her smile. ‘How’s Mr Carpenter getting there? You have asked him, I suppose?’
Josh Carpenter was now a frequent visitor to Foundry Yard. The first time he had settled himself in a chair beside the range and held out his arms to take the baby, Eveleen had stared at him open-mouthed. But she had placed Bridie in the crook of his arm and then stood back to watch him. The tiny child nestled against his soft body and gazed up into his face as if drinking in the man’s features.
Josh smiled down at her. ‘She’s not frightened of my ugly mug, is she?’
Eveleen said nothing but watched Josh’s gentleness with the tiny mite.
As he looked down at the infant in his arms, Josh said slowly, ‘You might not believe it, but I was married once.’ He paused and then added sadly, ‘My wife died having our first child. A boy. He died too.’
Eveleen glanced at her mother who was staring, wide-eyed, at Josh, her fingers trembling against her mouth. Eveleen turned away and went into the scullery, leaving them together. If her mother wanted to confide in the big man, then that was her business.
Mary never said what had passed between them and Eveleen did not ask, but after that day, Josh came to the house once or twice a week, always bringing a little gift for the baby and sometimes a posy of flowers for Mary.
‘He’s making his own way there,’ Eveleen said now in answer to Win’s question.’
Win glanced about her and whispered. ‘Is your mam all right? Is she going to go?’
Eveleen held up two crossed fingers. ‘So far, yes. But you never know with my mam. This morning she might have changed her mind yet again.’
‘Do you think the rest of your family will attend?’
‘That’s what’s worrying her, I think. Part of her wants them to be there, the other part is dreading it.’
Win nodded, though she could not quite understand all that went on in this family. All she knew was that this spirited young lass, now busily feeding and dressing a tiny baby that was not even her own, had a lot on her plate.
Fred and his mate arrived promptly and everyone, including Mary, climbed up into the trap. They set off at a spanking pace in good time to travel the few miles to Flawford, a basket holding the baby’s feeding paraphernalia at their feet.
‘You’ll need to go somewhere to feed and change her before the service, won’t you?’ Win said softly to Eveleen and glanced anxiously at Mary, hoping that above the noise of the wheels, she would not hear. ‘Is there anyone’s house you can go to?’
‘When we went to the funeral, we went to my grandmother’s. But today’ – Eveleen looked up smiling – ‘I think the godfather will oblige. He lives in one of the other cottages.’
‘So,’ Win said slowly, ‘you’re going close to your uncle’s home? Right next door to Bridie’s grandfather?’
Eveleen nodded ‘And her great-grandmother’s house.’
Win shook her head. ‘I don’t understand it. How anyone can hold it against a tiny mite like this, I don’t know.’
With great feeling, Eveleen said, ‘You don’t know my Uncle Harry.’
‘Maybe, after today,’ Win said, determination in her tone, ‘I will.’
Andrew must have been watching out for them for only seconds after the trap had drawn up outside the gates, and before they had had a chance to climb down, he was pulling open the gate and holding out his arms to take Bridie.
Eveleen saw the smile on Win’s face and knew that even before he had been properly introduced, Bridie’s prospective godfather had endeared himself to her.
‘Come along in. Everything’s ready.’ He led the way to his cottage, which was between Harry’s at one end and Bridget Singleton’s at the other.
‘Oh, Andrew!’ Eveleen exclaimed as she stepped into his front parlour. Before her spread on the table in the centre of the small, cramped room were plates and plates piled high with food: sandwiches, scones and buns, dark brown squares of ginger parkin, and lacemaker’s cake cut into slices and spread thickly with butter. ‘You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.’
Andrew, still carrying the baby, only grinned. ‘Not every day do I get an excuse to have a party.’
‘It’s a grand spread, young man,’ Win said and moved forward to greet him. ‘I’m Win, one of Bridie’s godmothers. Eveleen’s the other, of course. I’m pleased to meet you.’
Andrew nodded, but keeping tight hold of the baby, did not put out his hand to take Win’s. He smiled and echoed, ‘Pleased to meet you. Make yourselves at home. Mrs Hardcastle, come and sit near the fire.’
The room was full of chatter and bustle as the party all squeezed in to Andrew’s front room. Now that he had welcomed everyone, Andrew sat down and gently eased open the folds of the shawl. ‘Oh, but she’s bonny,’ he said. ‘She’s altered even since I last saw her.’
‘They alter every day when they’re little,’ Win said, leaning forward to join in the admiration. ‘You’ll have to come over and see us as often as you can.’
‘I will,’ Andrew said promptly. ‘I’ll come on Sunday afternoons.’ He glanced up at Eveleen and added, ‘If that’s all right with you.’
‘Of course it is,’ she said quietly, marvelling again at his devotion. He would come all that way every week, walking the six miles or so if necessary, just so that he could see Rebecca’s baby.
There was a knock at the door and Eveleen, being the nearest, opened it.
‘Mr Carpenter. You made it then? Do come in.’
The big man squeezed himself into the already crowded room. He mopped his forehead
and said, ‘Reckon I’ll just stand by the door, Eveleen. And please, do call me Josh when we’re not at work.’
Eveleen smiled and introduced him to Andrew, the only person in the room whom Josh had not met before.
Josh nodded and then craned to see the baby. ‘How’s the little one? Been all right on the journey, has she?’
‘Good as gold,’ Win said.
‘Eveleen,’ Andrew said. ‘Do you want to make everyone a cup of tea? Everything’s ready in the scullery and the kettle’s boiling there on the hob. And please, everyone, help yourselves to something to eat.’
Eveleen smiled. Obviously Andrew had no intention of letting go of the baby. She pulled off her gloves and went through to the scullery.
While the adults drank tea, Eveleen prepared Bridie’s bottle.
‘I’ll give it to her,’ Andrew said. ‘Just show me what to do.’
The women in the room exchanged a glance that said silently, what a wonderful husband for Rebecca and father this young man would have made. If only she had lived, there would have been some happiness for her if she had been prepared to take it.
Josh eased himself down on to a spindly-legged chair next to Mary and began a conversation. ‘How are you, Mrs Hardcastle? Lovely day for a ride out into the country, isn’t it?’
Eveleen, hearing his words, held her breath for a moment. That was not the best topic of conversation he could have chosen. Even though he had seen her often over the past few weeks, he probably still did not know of Mary’s hankering to return to the open fields and the huge skies of Lincolnshire.
But, strangely, Mary was smiling at him. ‘Oh, Mr Carpenter—’
‘Josh,’ he prompted gently.
Her smile widened. ‘Josh, then. I wish you could see the place where we used to live. It’s beautiful. My husband was head cowman for the Dunsmores and we lived in a tied farmhouse on the estate. That’s why we had to leave when he died, you see.’
Josh nodded, understandingly.
‘But we shall go back one day. Eveleen’s promised to take me home again as soon as she can.’
Tangled Threads Page 30
